


Parchment and Patience

by SarcasmFish (Alcyonidae)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Romance, trust building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcyonidae/pseuds/SarcasmFish
Summary: Cullen finds the Herald's journal mistakenly forgotten and attempts to return it to her.





	

The book lying peacefully on the table top forced him to a stop.  It was ordinary; a green cover of some cheap leather origin that had been worn and frazzled around the edges.  For some reason it caught his eye, some piece of familiarity bid him pause and take notice.  He stared at it without touching, his gaze almost reproachful at this objects interruption in his business.  His fingers flexed with the need to pick it up and turn it over in his hands, to open it and reveal its mysteries.  But the ache in his hands painfully reminded him to temper his actions with thought.  Why had he noticed this book among all the other books scattered randomly amid Haven?  Had he seen it before?  Where?  And why was it lying here puzzling him now?

The Herald.  The realization nearly caused him to draw back.  She was still an unaccounted for piece in this game and he disliked being unable to predict the next move.  This worn tome was hers, clutched regularly under her arm, but not often seen open. 

He had never before given it any regard.  A mage with a book was not an unusual sight, but for some reason, now that it sat there questioning him, it caused his mind to wander.  What was in it?  Was it some favorite childhood story?  A text needed for reference of various magical activities?  Maybe a journal she kept of her days?

He finally reached out a gloved hand to pick up the book and assuage his curiosity.  It was light in his hands, but dragged heavily on his mind.  He moved to lift the cover and scan the contents, but sunlight from the window caught the reflection on the sword of mercy emblazoned on the vambrace of his armor.  He froze and stared at.  The symbol had long since lost its meaning.  That heavy feeling was now replaced with guilt, an implacable guilt.

The book remained closed.  He tucked it under his arm in much the same manner the Herald carried it.  He would see it returned to her.  Perhaps this gesture would smooth over some of the tension between them.  It wasn’t that she had been outright rude or hostile, but she bore the air of a cat on a fence watching a mabari.  He could not fault her.  She had been a Circle mage for over twenty years.  Who knew what crimes she had seen from his brothers and sisters or what crimes they had committed against her.

The book accompanied him throughout his day, through meetings and drills.  He escorted it with military precision.  After a time it became forgotten until an errant lieutenant questioned its presence and brought it back to his mind.  He had meant to return it with haste, but had failed to see its owner.  It was odd to not see the Herald roaming Haven, but he knew she usually spent a few hours in the war room going over the maps in the evening.  He would go there now and return it.

He entered the room, not boisterously, but with enough sound to alert her to his presence.  He had enough firsthand experience to understand the dangers of sneaking up on a mage.  She whipped around regardless and visibly tensed upon seeing him standing there alone.  He reminded himself not to take her reactions personally.  She was merely reacting to his previous titles.  He needed to do all he could to remember that and work around it.

He stepped forward, clearing the space between them in a few steps, but remaining a respectful distance.  She took a step back as he neared, bumping into the table behind her.  She looked trapped and small.  Guilt and sorrow flooded him.  A look of panic flickered across her features before she brought down her usual mask of careful control.  He desperately wanted to reassure her that she need not fear him.  But those would be merely words.  Instead, he stepped to the side to face her so he wasn’t blocking the door.  If she needed to flee he would give her plenty of room to do so.

“I found this earlier.”  He kept his voice soft and neutral as he produced the book from under his arm.  She stared at it and was suddenly apprehensive again.  One hand, the one with the mark, gripped the edge of the table behind her, but she did not move to take it from him or respond to his words.

This was supposed to be an easy exchange.  He floundered now, shifting his weight, suddenly far too uncomfortable in the trappings of his armor.  He had expected to return her belongings, bow, and then be on his way.  The whole thing about perhaps bettering their working relationship had been just a hope, now it appeared his kind gesture was sliding in the other direction.

He cleared his throat and pushed the book out to her a little farther.

“I wanted to return it to you.”  Her eyes snapped up to meet his, still wary.  She seemed to search him a moment, trying to discover the trap he was setting or the angle he was working.  Her eyes flickered from his to the book and back.  He tried to stand calm and in control even under her uncomfortable scrutiny.  After a moment of thought she finally reached out to take the book from him, which he relinquished gratefully.  She looked down at it for a moment before clasping it closer to herself.

He stepped back again, meaning to take the opportunity to excuse himself when he noticed the reflection of sunlight in her hair.  A realization rooted him in place.  He had brushed her current discomfort off on the inherent distrust between Templars and mages.  But this was more than just the circling and appraising between two unknowns.  This was about what she clutched in her hands. 

He glanced back to her cautious eyes, watching him closely, and tried to implore all of his sincerity into his own.

“I did not open it.  It has remained closed while in my care.”  His sudden admission seemed to startle her, her careful mask slipping slightly to show real surprise.

Mages did not have privacy in the Circles.  Anything they wrote could be taken by a Templar and read.  From the day they set foot in their tower a Templar was most likely present for every conversation they ever had.  All of their mail was opened before it was given to them.  Every letter they wrote was inspected and scrutinized before it was sent out.  Even the books in the Circle libraries were cultivated to eliminate any potentially dangerous or inspiring messages.  A Templar needed no reason or cause to take away a valued possession.  Nothing was ever truly theirs to own. 

She made to say something, but then suddenly withdrew again, clasping the book against her chest and glancing away from him.

He could not help the small dwelling of disappointment, but this would have to do.  He had done his best to bridge the gap.  Years of turmoil would not be completely overcome in one act.  He gave her a small formal bow and turned to leave.

His hand was nearly upon the door when he heard her voice, soft, but sure.

“Thank you.”

He glanced over his shoulder to regard her.  The earnest look she followed him with implored an understanding.  She recognized his gesture for what it was.

He offered a small, reassuring smile before taking his leave.


End file.
